From the bus to the grove of trees [Author: Unknown] [Completed]

Let me start with a digression, unrelated to the story, but it's also about a chance encounter involving groping breasts on a bus—something many of you might already know. I recently started a new company, and getting to work requires one bus transfer. From home, I take bus 33 or 8, which takes about 50 minutes, then transfer to a trolleybus, which takes another 30 to 40 minutes. The buses are very crowded in the morning, perfect for groping on the bus. The situation isn't so good in the evening. Our company is in a large startup park, and while there are many people leaving get off work in the evening, they get off quickly, and the bus empties out after a few stops. Since taking the trolleybus takes over 40 minutes on buses 8 and 33 in the evening, it's past rush hour, so there aren't many people, and the chances of groping are even fewer.

It was quite by chance that I was squeezing onto a bus. There was a woman in front of me; she was pretty and had a good figure. I followed behind her, intending to get close enough to grope her buttocks once I got on. Because it was crowded, I had to push and shove to get on. I grabbed the handrail on the door with my right hand and squeezed hard until I finally got on. Suddenly, I felt something soft and squishy on my hand. I looked down and saw that the woman had turned around, facing forward, and her breasts were pressing against my hand. Our bus has three diagonal handrails on the door; I don't know if other buses are like that, but this one is. Because I was behind her, one step lower than her, I was holding the middle handrail, and she was holding the top one. This meant her arm was pressing against mine, making it feel like my hand was going under her ribs. The woman seemed to sense it too, so she quickly turned around and put her hand down beside her, blocking my hand. But it didn't matter. This accidental discovery allowed me to find a way to touch breasts, even if it was only possible to do so while getting on the bus or squeezing from the front to the back. But it's better than nothing, right?

Now, let's get to the main point.

A few nights ago, after get off work, I took the tram home as usual. The tram was fine, but I passed the terminus of bus number 8, which was exactly half a stop away. Half a stop further ahead was the bus stop for number 33. Bus 33 is faster, so I usually transfer to it. That day, I saw a crowd at the bus terminus. I often take the number 8, and judging from the crowd, it had been a long time since the bus had run. With so many people, I figured there was a chance. So I decided to take bus 8 that day. However, I didn't go to the terminus; instead, I walked half a stop further ahead to the second stop. Since boarding at the terminus meant the bus would be empty and the doors wouldn't be crowded, the chances of groping someone were slim. But at the second stop, it was different; people were blocking the doors, increasing the chances. Many, and much easier.

Sure enough, the weather cooperated; there was a beautiful woman at the station. She wasn't exceptionally beautiful, but she was youthful and pretty, wearing a uniform, similar to the uniforms of flight attendants or service staff in high-end restaurants and hotels—I'm not entirely sure, as I don't know much about these things. It was a dark blue uniform and skirt suit, with a white shirt underneath, the hem of which revealed a small patch of pure white trim beneath the uniform. The blouse was long, past the knees, and very tight, and below that, her long legs were clad in black stockings and black high heels. To be honest, I'm not a uniform fetishist. Initially, I targeted her because there were two other pretty women next to her. I thought that if they all squeezed onto the train together, with three beautiful women close together, there would be more opportunities. Once on board, I could target whichever woman was easier to approach. However, the other two women were dressed... Jeans, as everyone knows, have a really rough feel. Compared to softer fabrics, I usually prioritize softer fabrics because they feel much better, especially silk.

The bus arrived, and I boarded behind this woman. Two other women boarded as well, but they didn't know each other. One got separated in the crowd, and the other was next to me. I thought having two choices wasn't bad; maybe I could even have one on each side. However, something went wrong when boarding. The woman in uniform was in front of me, and the other woman was pushed behind me. But at that point, I couldn't care less; there were too many people, and everyone was being pushed forward. So, I tried to use the trick I mentioned earlier to touch the woman in uniform's breasts, but unfortunately, I didn't succeed. After boarding, I

basically stayed near the front door and didn't move much backward . The uniformed woman was standing next to the card reader. I moved behind her, but before I could make a move, another woman squeezed in behind me, her large breasts pressing against my back. They were firm, not the soft type, so I could feel them quite clearly, though they were uncomfortable against my back. However, the psychological sensation was very stimulating. So, instead of immediately touching the uniformed woman in front, I moved my arm back, turned my body slightly to the side, and used my elbow to nudge the breasts of the woman behind me. She didn't react at first, but when I rubbed my arm back and forth, she started to pull away. I gave up; after all, there was still the uniformed woman in front of me, so I decided to try this one first.

The bus was crowded. Next to me was a primary school student with a backpack, which was facing the uniformed woman, pressing against her waist and... I slipped my left hand between the schoolgirl's backpack and the uniformed girl's buttocks, placing it directly on her buttocks. I opened my palm completely, covering them entirely. I don't know what kind of fabric the skirt was made of; it felt so good, so smooth. I could even feel the warmth and softness emanating from her buttocks. I wondered if she was cold in this weather. At first, I didn't dare go too far, leaving the uniform on top, unsure if the girl would react too aggressively. So I just gently rubbed it as the car swayed. After a few minutes, seeing no reaction from her, I grew bolder and pressed down slightly on her buttocks. She still didn't react. Then, the car suddenly braked sharply. Unlike some novels where, in such situations, the driver immediately began roughly kneading the girl's buttocks, I... My first instinct after being jolted by the car was to grab onto a handrail to avoid being knocked over. There was a horizontal handrail next to the card reader, so I grabbed it and managed to steady myself. Just then, the uniformed woman was standing right there, her breasts right next to the handrail—not too close, not too far. I could reach them with my fingers, but reaching out would be too obvious. So, I ended up standing behind her, holding onto the handrail in front of her. The other woman was now to my right, completely out of the question. But the uniformed woman hadn't reacted yet, so it seemed like I could continue touching her.

Because of the sway, my hand had loosened, so I reached over again, pushed aside the schoolboy's backpack, and placed my palm completely over the woman's buttocks. After rubbing them a couple of times, I started pressing hard on her buttocks. The woman... There was no reaction, so I tentatively grabbed her a few times with my hand, but the movement was very small, just a slight retraction of my fingers. The woman still didn't react. At this point, we arrived at another stop. The woman didn't move, and neither did I. Several people next to us tried to push back, but they didn't move much. Since we were at the station, I was prepared, so this time I pressed harder on the woman's buttocks and rubbed them vigorously. The feel was amazing. Then the woman made a move. She put her left hand to her side, a gesture that seemed like she was putting her hand on her hip, or maybe she was grabbing the handrail next to the driver. Because it was blocked by the schoolbag of a primary school student, I couldn't see clearly. I was still a bit timid, afraid of being grabbed and embarrassed, so I quickly withdrew my hand and waited to see what would happen. After the bus started moving, the woman didn't make any other moves. It seemed she was grabbing the handrail. I placed my hand on the woman's buttocks again, gradually increasing the pressure and slowly kneading. She still didn't react, so I started using my fingers, making slight grasping motions, but not too much at once, only slowly. I continued until the grasping motion was enough for her to know someone was touching her buttocks, and she still didn't react. Then I felt safe enough to continue grasping and kneading, but I still didn't dare to go too far. Unlike many novels where women let you touch them without any resistance, most women I've encountered in real life allow you to touch them, but not grab them. Those women clearly know you're touching them, and they don't react, but if you grab them, they will resist. Only a very few women will let you do whatever you want, and of course, that's limited to your hands.
Having gained the approval of the woman's breasts, I felt free to touch them boldly. Not content with just pinching them with my fingers through the handle, I placed my hand between the handle and the woman's breasts, resting the back of my hand on the handle. This way, I held the woman's breasts in my hands and kneaded them wantonly. Because the woman was wearing what was probably a hotel waitress uniform, it was very thin, so the texture was very clear. The woman's breasts weren't the soft type, but rather firm and solid. Squeezing them wasn't as satisfying as soft breasts, but the feel was very real. Whether I squeezed, grabbed, kneaded, or rubbed them, I could clearly feel the woman's breasts changing shape in my hands. Especially when squeezing, the woman's breasts were very firm, and it took some force to flatten them. On a bus, surrounded by people, the sense of accomplishment from squeezing a woman's breasts so hard was intoxicating, even more so than the feel of squeezing breasts. Moreover, because of the woman's uniform, I could clearly feel the position of her nipples. I also pinched and rubbed or squeezed the woman's nipples a few times. Of course, my other hand couldn't be idle either; it was constantly on the beauty's buttocks. Gradually, my penis hardened, and thrusting into her from behind felt even better. Her breathing became a little unsteady. Just then, the beauty started to squeeze backward; I didn't know if she wanted to hide or get off the bus.

But having encountered a beauty who could be touched not only her buttocks but also her breasts at will, I decided I couldn't let her go. I followed her, wanting to play with her a little longer before she got off. So I followed behind her, heading towards her hand. It seemed the beautiful woman wasn't avoiding me; she really was getting off the bus. As she walked backward, she was always sideways, one hand gripping a handrail on the back of the bus, the other clearing a path through the crowd. This meant I could freely grab her breasts from behind. In fact, my other hand had been holding her breast the entire time. Whenever she stopped, I would lean in, either pushing against her from behind or grabbing her buttocks with my other hand. She didn't resist. We moved together to the back door after three stops. Throughout, my hand never left her breast, and I continued to fondle it. When we reached the station and the back door opened for her to get off, my hand was still on her breast, unwilling to leave. Inexplicably, I grabbed her breast and got off the bus with her.

This stop was in a park area between two residential areas, and there were very few people. Not many were getting on or off the bus. After the beautiful woman and I got off, there were only a handful of people at the station. The woman glanced at me, then looked down at my hand still on her breast. I smiled awkwardly and quickly let go of her hand. Being crowded on the bus was one thing, but getting off was another.

At this moment, the woman pointed to a grove of trees in the park and turned to leave. My heart skipped a beat. What was she planning? Was there more to come? So I quickly followed her. Once inside the grove, I discovered several couples having sex in the open. It seemed the woman knew about this place; there was definitely more to come. I'd really hit the jackpot today.

The beautiful woman in front of me suddenly stopped walking, her back to me. I quickly walked up to her, about to say or do something, when she turned around. She had already unbuttoned her top, revealing a black lace bra. She raised her hand to her mouth, gesturing for me to speak, then knelt down. What followed was simple: oral sex, then breast sex. However, unlike what I expected, she didn't let me penetrate her in the end. She only breast-sexed until I was about to ejaculate, then switched to oral sex, finally letting me ejaculate in her mouth. She swallowed all the semen, not spitting out a single drop. After that, she got up and left, giving me no chance or room to do anything else. (

Word count: 4357

) [The End]

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/195461.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=195461&aspx=1

Previous Page : [My Sexual Experiences][Full Article]

Next Page : [When passion runs deep, son fucks mother][The End]

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

From the bus to the grove of trees [Author: Unknown] [Completed]

comment Open a new window to view comments